


Shibboleth

by silkstocking



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2019-2020 NHL Season, Blow Jobs, Dallas Stars, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-22 11:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21301094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkstocking/pseuds/silkstocking
Summary: Denis has another two goal game; Roope rewards him.
Relationships: Denis Gurianov/Roope Hintz
Comments: 13
Kudos: 52





	Shibboleth

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was inspired by [Roope's reaction to Guri's penalty shot](https://gfycat.com/appropriatemadeupcockatoo-hockey) during the Stars-Habs game last night. 
> 
> Great minds think alike and you should also check out [Nadler's response](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21298226/chapters/50716364) to the same stimulus.

Denis is still buzzing with the thrill of the game when he finally makes his way into the showers. The first goal keeps replaying itself in his head: the way it felt to go toe to toe with Carey Price, just him and his stick against one of the best goalies in the world. The hush that had fallen over the arena--or maybe that had just been the rushing of the blood in Denis's ears. How the whole place had erupted after, the elation of the guys on the bench, everyone shouting his name. 

He closes his eyes under the spray and relives it one more time behind his eyelids. 

Something startles him and his eyes snap open to see Roope, way closer than he expected. It's not unusual in itself to shower next to another guy; no one is shy in an NHL locker room and there's nothing here that either of them haven't seen before. But Roope is right in Denis's personal space, crowding him back against the wall in a way that's breaking about twenty different unspoken rules. 

"What," Denis starts, and Roope grins at him.

"Fuck, that fucking penalty shot was so hot. Sorry I couldn't get you the hatty. Let me suck you off."

"What?" Denis says again, stupidly. "Is this--are you serious?" This has to be a prank, Denis is sure of it, like making the rookie skate a lap alone or taping someone's skate blades. True, Esa is usually the Finn doing that kind of stuff, but maybe Roope--

"C'mon, Guri. You don't want a blowie?" Roope says, his eyes flashing the way Denis has always loved to see on the ice, that look that says he's about to skate circles around some pylon of a d-man or send a beauty pass right onto Denis's tape. It sends anticipation coursing through Denis's whole body.

He swallows. Hesitates. Nods. 

There's nothing hesitant about the way Roope drops to his knees. Not a prank then, Christ. Denis's dick gets with the program immediately, even if his brain takes a little longer. Water cascades down around them as Roope flicks his tongue out to lap at the head, teasing. He keeps doing that until Denis makes a strangled, desperate noise he didn't know he was capable of, and then Roope finally stops fucking around and just fucking... blows him. 

It's perfect: the impossible heat of Roope's mouth, the swirl of his tongue, the fucking expert-level suction. Denis gets his hands into Roope's hair, winding the wet, blond strands tight around his fingers until Roope gasps and looks up at Denis through his long eyelashes. He's so pretty like this, Denis could almost forget he's a guy. Almost. Roope's hands feel stupidly big where they're digging into Denis's skin, and the hot little noises he's making in his throat are unmistakably masculine. Denis rubs his thumb along Roope's cheekbone and Roope's eyes flutter closed again. Damn. How have they never done this before, all these years they've played together?

Denis is vaguely aware of movement in the corner of his eye, of laughter and deep voices. Someone says, "Fucking Christ," and then someone else, Seguin, maybe, says, "Well, the kid deserves to get his dick sucked for those goals, fuck." A familiar laugh; Sasha's laugh. 

Denis wants to flinch away, but Roope's blue eyes are steady on Denis's and his hands are tight on Denis's hips, pinning him against the cold tile. 

"Fuck," Denis groans, and Roope swallows around his dick. The blood is rushing in his ears again, and it's almost like he's flying down the ice with the puck on his tape, except he's not. He's getting blown by his liney in the showers where his teammates can see them. That shouldn't be making Denis's heart race and his dick jump like this. Then Roope's tongue finds a spot that makes him see stars, and, really, there's only so much a guy can be expected to handle. 

Denis hears Roope spit into the shower drain while he's still trying to get his legs to stop shaking. 

"What the fuck was that?" he demands, when he finally feels capable of English speech again.

Roope's grinning at him like the cat that got the cream. "Motivation, baby. Keep scoring like that. I need my best liney up here, not in Cedar Park."

"Keep feeding me those passes," Denis says, and feels himself immediately blush as Roope's grin widens. "Just the passes, Hintz. Nothing else."

"We'll see," Roope says. He brushes a kiss to Denis's shoulder as he leaves.

Denis closes his eyes and leans back against the wall, letting the water wash the ghost of Roope's touch from his skin. 


End file.
